Page 44 of The Lazarus Protocol

“You don’t control what happens, so that isn’t a promise you can make.” Marina pushed her door open and got out.

She brought her backpack with her and used a key from the keyring to open the apartment. Inside smelled like vanilla and whatever had been cooking in the Crock-Pot while Kathryn was at work. Now it was a nasty mess crusted to the inside of the dish. Marina pulled out the plug, even though it had long since burned out.

Noah looked around at the open plan kitchen and living area. Piles of pillows on the couch. A low coffee table covered with home décor magazines and several remotes. “Doesn’t look like anyone has been through here looking for something.”

“They didn’t find it if they did, because she had the flash drive with her when she died.” Marina sat on the couch and tugged out her laptop, laying it on the décor magazines.

“So they killed her and took it?”

She waved the keys at him.

Noah went back to the front and locked the door. When he turned, she was twisting something, pulling a lid off. “What is that?”

“Looks like a can of pepper spray. Works like one, too. But inside it’s a flash drive.” She glanced at him. “Personal safety and data storage.”

Noah wandered down the hall, checking out the rest of the apartment. Turned out to be a single bedroom with an ensuite bathroom and a closet on the far side. In the hall he found a linen closet and half bathroom.

Marina stood abruptly and walked away from the laptop. “There’s nothing here.”

“It’s been wiped, or it was destroyed and the data erased?”

“No, the files and reports are all there. It’s just…nothing that anyone would kill a person over. Someone is buying satellite space. If the transactions all trace back to the same entity, or person, then it’s possible there’s going to be a monopoly. But in the end, who will care?”

Noah said, “One person controlling the skies. If there’s a battle over it, that could be worth killing for. To seize control. Or if they’re desperate enough to keep it a secret.”

And her cousin had been caught in it.

“She died in an accident—or so everyone thinks. If we dig, we might find evidence otherwise.”

Noah frowned. “And we’d draw attention to ourselves.”

“We have what we came for. Which isn’t a pattern. And if it was, it wouldn’t be illegal. There’s literally no way to stop a foreign country from selling their orbital rights to anyone they please. It could be construed as none of our business.”

“But it might be the reason your cousin was killed.”

Marina walked down the hall and out of sight. Noah didn’t bother looking at the laptop, because he doubted he’d be able to make more sense of it than Marina. They could find an expert, or pay that visit to her office and speak with her colleagues. One of them might be able to make sense of Kathryn’s death, or Marina and Noah might wind up putting someone else’s life in danger.

He slid the Crock-Pot pan into the trash and tied it off, intending to take the bag with him on their way out. Lifting the bag out of the can had him wincing to hide the pain that echoed in his spine, but Marina didn’t see. He gave himself a second to breathe through the discomfort before she came back, glancing around.

On the front of her fridge, Kathryn had a couple of photos. She and Marina posed together in one from five years ago, wearing sparkly glasses commemorating the New Year. Another was of Kathryn and an older woman on the deck of a cruise ship.

At the top corner of the collection, a postcard had been tucked partially behind one of the photos and the high school graduation announcement for a dark-haired boy. Noah slid out the postcard, immediately recognizing the image on the front side. Not because he’d ever been to Perth before. In fact, he’d never been to Australia or New Zealand, or anywhere that far across the world.

“Hey, what…” She trailed off. “A postcard?”

Noah went to the stove and lit one of the small gas burners at the back. He held the postcard over the heat.

“Noah, what are you doing?” Marina tried to shove him out of the way. “You’ll burn it!”

“No, I won’t. We need heat to see.”

“Heat to see what?”

The paper on the back side of the postcard began to brown, forming letters where the note would be written. A secret message sent to Kathryn. Noah read what he saw. “It’s just a series of numbers.”

“Those are reference numbers. They were in the information on the flash drive, all of them account for a licensing agreement.” Marina took the postcard from him. “Someone sent this to her, she looked into these sales, and now she’s dead?”

Noah backed up, getting some space so he could think this through.